


You're Gonna Catch Me

by missmollyetc



Category: Hockey RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Hockey Players-Canada, Hockey Players-Men, Hockey Players-Russia, M/M, National Hockey League, Pittsburgh Penguins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-11
Updated: 2012-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-01 19:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmollyetc/pseuds/missmollyetc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a lot of things Geno could say right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Gonna Catch Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for thefourthvine! For the prompt: "Sid/Geno, Improbable Diversion"

Geno blinked once, slowly, taking the time to feel his eyelids squeezing together. It was ten o'clock in the morning, and he'd gone to bed sober; how had he managed to wake up drunk? Sid coughed in front of him, and Geno could hear his feet shuffling against the carpet. He opened his eyes.

Sid's arms were folded over his chest, and his elbows were digging into his ribs so hard Geno could see wrinkles in his t-shirt. He blinked, and Sid's mouth twitched, not upwards like this was a joke, but deep in his jaw, as if he was biting his cheek. Geno glanced up at the corners of the ceiling, but if there were hidden cameras, then Sid must have hired outside the team for this prank.

"Sorry," Geno said, licking his lips. "Sorry, Sid, you want...to dance with me?"

Sid nodded, jerking his chin up and down. "Yes," he said.

"Like..."

Geno raised his arms, curling his left around the air in front of his chest. He rocked from side to side. Sid's lips twitched again; definitely biting, Geno'd had a dog that chewed his mouth once...

"Yes! That," Sid said, leaning forward. "I want that."

Geno stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and nodded. Tuesday was an odd day for a psychotic break, but no day would ever have been really good for it. He looked around Sid's--well, Mario's, but Sid's--living room. Sid had pushed the couch back against the walls, and overturned the coffee table on top of the cushions. The armchairs were lined up against the covered patio doors, and all the table lamps and tchotchkes Sid had made Geno help unpack three months ago when he'd moved back to the estate were lying on their seats, covered in sheets.

"How bad are you?" he asked, glancing back at Sid. The only thing uncovered was the stereo system on top of the entertainment center.

Sid grimaced at him, wrinkling his nose. "Geno," he said.

Geno waved his hand at the rest of the living room. "Is fair! Look at space."

"I won't be bad at it," Sid said. "I just...might move around a lot, okay? I want to make sure nothing gets broken."

Geno raised his eyebrows. Sid stood in the middle of the carpet, in his white socks and black sweats. A dull red flush bloomed at the top of his neck, and crept over his jaw; his elbows pushed in even more tightly to his sides. Sid looked down at his feet, and then back up at Geno.

Oh, hell. Geno sighed. "Fine," he said.

Sid's shoulders tumbled down from their perch around his neck. He dropped his hands to his sides, and nodded. "Great, okay, that's good. I'll just..." He pointed to his left, as he walked sideways over to the CD player. "I've got it all cued up, just a minute."

Geno rubbed his hand over his face. Of course, Sid had. Who said no to creepy living room dance sessions with Sidney Crosby? Not him, that was for sure, because he was an idiot and Sid had long eyelashes. He glanced through his fingers at Sid's back, watching the flex of his shoulders as Sid reprogrammed the CD from whatever he'd done to it. Maybe he was lucky Sid didn't seem to realize how...well, he knew how people reacted to him, but it never seemed to ping on Sid's radar in the same way it did everyone else. Yeah, Geno was lucky. He wiggled his bares toes into the carpet. Look at his luck.

"Ha," Sid said under his breath, and turned back around. He pointed over his shoulder, smiling tightly. "Got it."

The CD whirred in the player, and then a slow acoustic guitar chord throbbed out of the speakers bolted into the ceiling. Geno took a breath and held it. Was that--was that a chime? And a throaty girl singer? He felt his mouth fall open partway, and Sid stepped forward, holding his hands out in front of him.

"Slow song?" Geno asked, coughing a little. His stomach tightened.

Sid frowned, stopping a footstep away from him. "Is that--I mean, it's just this was the CD Nathalie--"

"Why can not--"

"She's out of town, okay?" Sid snapped. He raised his hands up between them, hovering at Geno's chest. He glared at Geno's neck, flush curling along his cheeks. "Mario took her for a couple's weekend, and I...um, look can we just--do this? I mean, it's just that I have this--I'm in a limited time frame, and I--"

"Sid-- _Sid_ ," Geno broke in.

Sid's mouth closed, teeth clicking together. He glanced up and then away, and his hands clenched and unclenched between them. Geno took a step back, and inhaled slowly. He swallowed down the dryness in his throat, and licked his lips.

"Is only question," Geno said.

Sid pressed his lips together, and nodded. His mouth pulled back in a grin with too many teeth, letting out a hiccupping laugh. "Yeah, I...sorry, I'm...I do get that this is..."

"Is okay," Geno said, too quickly, because he never, ever learned, and touched his fingers to the outside of Sid's left wrist. His skin was soft. "Song will finish soon?"

"It's on repeat," Sid said, blinking at Geno's fingers. "I have to lead."

Geno's skin prickled. He rolled his eyes anyway. "Of course," he said.

Sid huffed, and glanced up at him, blinking. A quick flicker of a smile curved his mouth, and then he was turning his wrist to take Geno's hand. He stood straight and held their hands out to the side. His right hand came around Geno's side and settled at the dip of his back. Geno held very still. They blinked at each other. The song ended, and whirred back to the beginning.

Sid took a breath, and looked down at their feet. "Okay," he said. "You put your free hand on my shoulder."

Geno nodded, blinking at the top of Sid's head. His hair wasn't gelled, but the heavy dark strands lay flat against his skull. He'd cut it when the doctors were running those tests in California, just in case. He lifted his hand and closed his hand around the meat of Sid's shoulder. His thumb landed on a hole at the neck of his t-shirt.

Sid licked his lips. He bobbed their hands, once and again, and then stepped forward, shoving with both hands and knocking his foot into Geno's ankle. Geno hopped backwards, still caught in Sid's grip.

"Fuck, Sid, fucking hurt," he said, pushing Sid back. "When you cut toes?"

Sid glared, and dropped his hand from Geno's back. "I'm wearing socks, you baby. You're supposed to move with me! It's dance!"

"Your toes like claws," Geno said, sticking his foot out to check for blood. He frowned. His back felt cold. "You think I do this before?"

Sid groaned, and jerked their clasped hands at the ceiling. "I don't know! I'm just...there was this eHow page and--I'm in the lead, you're supposed to be on beat. Following me."

Geno dropped his foot to the floor, and tightened his grip on Sid's shoulders. He pushed them back into the center of the living room. The girl singer wailed out of the speakers.

"Is no beat," he said. "Only emo. This is not what you do in clubs."

Sid slapped his hand back to the same spot on Geno's back, and glared at him. "There will be no club dancing anywhere. Let's just do this. Just, I don't know, look at my feet. Starting from..."

Sid's jaw clenched so hard Geno thought he heard a tooth crack. Geno looked down, and wiggled his toes. Now was not the time to think about how cute Sid was when he blushed. Something on the CD chimed again, and Sid pushed his left foot forward. Geno stepped backwards with both feet, and Sid groaned. They stopped again. He glanced up from their feet at Sid's bowed head.

"You have to mirror me," Sid said.

Geno tilted his head to the side, and licked his lower lip. He pressed down on Sid's shoulder until Sid was looking back at him. Sid's mouth was red, teeth worrying at the corner of his lips. He breathed in through his nose, and Geno wanted...well, Geno wanted nothing new. He pressed his thumb against the tendon in Sid's neck instead.

"Why so important?" he asked, and couldn't help the way his back tensed underneath Sid's hand.

Sid's eyes flickered away and back again. He shrugged. "It's dumb," he said. "Can you just help me?"

Geno nodded, slowly. Sid wanted to dance, but not in a club? Where else would you dance? The only special occasion Geno knew about was the statue unveiling, and if there was some kind of mandatory dance party afterwards, no one had told him. Also, Sid had probably had 'no non-sports related public motion' worked into his contract. He glanced up at the speakers in the ceiling; just to make sure none of them had blinking red recording lights. Sid shook their hands again, and Geno refocused.

"Right," he said. "One foot at a time?"

Sid nodded. He looked down at their feet, and tapped his finger four times against Geno's knuckles. "Like that, okay?" he asked.

He was too young to be so whipped. Geno sighed. "Sure."

Sid tapped out the rhythm again. This time, they managed a few, swaying steps before Geno's heel hit the bottom of the couch, and Sid dragged him back to the center to start over. Geno kept his head down, and his back straight, trying to remember something from that movie with the rain his father loved to watch. The music ended, and began again, with that slow acoustic guitar. Probably those dancers hadn't had Sidney Crosby counting at them under his breath, but after a few awkward steps--and Sid's big toe in Geno's instep--they lurched to something almost like a dance.

Geno's hand relaxed on Sid's shoulder. It was sort of like when he was younger, and learning how to skate. He'd been so small on the ice, he'd been more coat than person, but his teacher had put her hands on his elbows, and all Geno'd had to do was let her shift him where he needed to go. It was like that, almost.

He let Sid's movements push his body back and to the side, and then to the right. Sid's feet slid against the carpet smoothly enough to be on ice, socks bunching up at the toes. His hand in Sid's grew hot, and the spots on his back where Sid's fingers pressed into his muscles tingled. Geno blinked, and swallowed, suddenly conscious of his dry mouth.

Sid looked up at him quickly, as if he didn't think Geno would be looking back, and their eyes caught and held. Sid pushed at Geno's waist, and they stepped to the side and then brought their feet together. Geno opened his mouth.

"Taylor has a prom," Sid said, and Geno stumbled a little.

The music ended, and began again. Sid tightened his grip, and brought them back to the beginning. He tapped, and Geno stepped backwards on beat.

"And she takes you?" Geno asked.

Sid laughed, half-air, half-noise, and shook his head. The air seemed still around them, even though they were moving in time again, back and together, side and together, forward and together. Geno raised his eyebrows.

"She's got her pick at that school," Sid said, lit up like he only was talking about his sister. "I just threaten to send Cookie up there every couple of weeks."

Geno laughed, and they swayed closer. "Scared now," he said.

Sid grinned. "You bet," he said. "No, she, you know, asked for dancing tips."

Geno smiled. "Yeah?"

Sid nodded, shrugging. He glanced away and then back again. "Yeah, only I don't got any, so...just thought I'd get some for when we get up near Shattuck next week. Taylor likes this song."

Geno grunted. "So does Ovie."

Sid snickered, and Geno tightened his grip on Sid's shoulder and hand. Sid's chest was--was brushing against his, when had that happened? The singer was fading away again, leaving that soft bass and the guitars again. Sid's arm curled around Geno's waist.

"So why me?" Geno asked, quietly.

Geno stopped moving, bracing with his legs while Sid swayed to a stop.

Sid looked up. "Well, you're not going to tell anybody," he said. "About me needing dance lessons."

Geno shook his head. "Why bother?" he asked. "You...not that interesting."

Sid laughed, awkward and gasping like always, and Geno grinned. Sid's laugh died down to a chuckle, and a smile that wrinkled the corners of his eyes. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on Geno's shoulder. Geno's stomach turned over, heat along his front and low in his belly. He shifted his grip on Sid's hand. Slowly, Sid's palm twisted free, fingers parting to slide down into the spaces between Geno's own fingers, catching and curling over the back of his hand, and locking them together. Geno felt chapped lips press against his neck. He pulled Sid close.


End file.
